


"KISS ON THE DEVIL"

by blackillya



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Halloween Challenge, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-14 22:43:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13017702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackillya/pseuds/blackillya
Summary: The prompt:  Jantojones requested a story that was Illya-centric and angsty.  (hurt/comfort counts). TV version.





	"KISS ON THE DEVIL"

**Author's Note:**

> Inspiration: My love of trains and railroad folklore

Somewhere under The Village   
October 30th 1967

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are entering the lowest part of the subway station. The trains that used to pull in here are long gone: The tracks abandon”, Brent Connor, tour guide, announces to his group. “No one comes down here anymore, except doing this special tour,” he adds.

“Why?”, asks a female tourist.

Brent hesitates knowing how strange his next words would seem. “It’s said the Devil’s train pulls in on track one and prepares for a sacrifice,” he replies.

Some members of the group snicker and some gasps.

“Old wives tales!”, shouts one tourist.

“How dare you say such things in the presence of ladies!”, admonishes another.

Connor is about to answer when the ground beneath them begins to shake and roll. Distant rumbling is heard coming from the abandoned tunnel.

Everyone freezes.

“Are those training wheels?”, asks the tourist nearest to Brent.

As if on cue the sound like the moaning of a 1000 souls now issues forth from the tunnel; The rumbling draws nearer.

The sound sends a chill up Brent’s spine; the tourist start moving towards the staircase. Brent encourages them. “For your safety, please move as quickly as possible towards the exit.”

No one saw the two figures that lingered behind.

HAPPYHALLOWEENHAPPYHALLOWEENHAPPYHALLOWEENHAPPYHALLOWEEN

Under normal circumstances the old locomotive, and tender box where the coal is kept, would have been a tourist attraction for any railroad enthusiast; however, there are only two to witness its’ arrival. Two people who kneel before the man who exits the cab of locomotive.

“Is all in readiness?”, the man asks.

“All is ready, my lord. This is the woman I spoke of. She is one of us.”

“Speak, woman!”, the man commands.

“I have willfully sinned, my lord.”

“Name the sin.”

“Envy.”

“Ah! My favorite. Who is the object of your envy?”

“Illya Kuryakin.”

“And the object of your desire?”

“Napoleon Solo.”

The man frowns. “Solo’s womanizing is legend, why would you be envious of another man?”

“I fear he might be looking at Kuryakin in a different light.”

“Explain.”

“Every time the opportunity comes up to be alone with dear Napoleon, Kuryakin comes along and spoils it. Instead of deferring to me, he goes with him. I am tired of it!!”

Several minutes pass as the man processes this information. “I see”, he finally says. “Does Kuryakin know of this possible ‘change’?”

“No.”

The man begins to pace. “How will you bring him to me?”

“Illya trust me and considers me a friend.”

“Good! A betrayal of trust. What of Solo?”

“No problem.”

“Very well. Go. The time approaches.”

The man and woman bow, turn, and leave.

MFUMFUMFUMFUHAPPYHALLOWEENMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

SOMEWHERE IN THE LOWER EAST FORTIES  
OCTOBER 31ST. 1967

"Napoleon!"

Napoleon Solo turns at the sound of his name, puzzled by the excitement in his partner's voice. Emotion was not yet part of the Russian's psyche. "Hi, Illya! What's that I heard in your voice?"

Illya Kuryakin shakes his head in mock exasperation. He had come to know when the American was teasing or serious. "Please don't faint, Napoleon; but, yes, it was emotion you heard in my voice. I have decided to take your advice."

Napoleon smiles. If it had been any other man the long-worded answer would have been annoying; in his partner he found it strangely endearing. "And what advice was that?"

"I will be attending a party this night!”

Solo feels suddenly sick to his stomach; but, he keeps calm. "That's great. Who invited you?"

The sudden change in the American's expression puzzles Illya; but, in his excitement, he ignores it. "Brady, if you must know.”

The muscles in his stomach tighten. Sean Brady may have been new to UNCLE New York labs, but he had worked with the Russian in the London office. He knew the Irishman was the same age as Illya, and was said to possess the same intelligence and wit....and was very handsome. Gently he takes the Russian by the elbow and guides him into the office behind him. Fortunately it is abandoned. 

"Nap......!”, Illya begins, but is silenced by a finger to his lips. "Illya, please. Don't go to that party. I have a feeling something terrible will happen to you", he pleads.

Illya sighs. Up until now he refused to believe the rumors true. Napoleon is jealous. However, friend or not, he has no right to meddle in his private life. 

“Illya?”

The whisper of his name brings him back to the matter at hand. Trying desperately to control the anger rising inside him he walks over to the other man only stopping when their faces are inches apart. “Let me make myself clear on two points, Mister Solo. First – it was YOU who encouraged me to make friends – YOURSELF included; this I have done. The second – where I go, with whom and why are my concern and MINE alone. If YOU want this friendship to continue, remember that.”

Solo slumps down in a nearby chair as his mind reels with the implications; yet, his gaze never waives from that intense blue gaze. “I feel like Calpurnia, wife of Caesar, begging him not to go to the Capitol because of her dreams”, he finally replies, unable to steady his voice.

Despite the situation Illya remains resolute. “Do you remember his answer?”

The Russian’s stubbornness is beginning to wear on his nerves. “Oh, yes, I remember. Do you remember the price he paid for not listening?”

“Yes. The point is it was his choice, Napoleon, HIS choice. What I do tonight is MINE. Clear?”

“Clear.” 

“Good. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go home to get dressed.”

Not giving Solo time to answer, Illya leaves the office.

Napoleon remains seated, staring at the closed door. //Consequences be damned!! I’m not going to stand by and let anything happen to you!//

His mind resolute he heads for the door. 

MFUMFUMFUMFUMHAPPYHALLOWEEMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

Several things come to Illya’s attention as he returns to the world of consciousness. First, his surroundings – except for a shaft of moonlight illuminating his body – he is surrounded by darkness; second, that he is naked and chained to altar; last of all – from the darkness issues an eerie, monotone humming indicating he isn’t alone. He represses a shudder. Something, or someone, evil is here.

“Attention, brothers and sisters, our guest of honor awakes.” 

Illya sneers. He recognizes that voice. “Angelique, darling, aren’t you a little too old for Halloween jokes?”

Angelique DuBois, a THRUSH agent of some talent, steps out of the darkness and favors him with a feral smile. “Illya, darling, this is no joke.”

“Then, would you mind explaining what the hell is going on?”, he demands.

“Your useage of the word ‘hell’ is correct, Illya”, says another familiar voice.

“Sean? Are you a prisoner?”, Illya asks, concern for his fellow agent evident in his voice.

“Oh no, boyo. WE are willing participants.”

“Turned traitor, have we?”

“No. You see this has nothing to do with UNCLE or THRUSH. I’m helping out a relative.”

“Relative?”

“Aye. My cousin seems to think you are a problem and the only solution to that problem is to get rid of you – permanently.”

Illya tenses. “You know the penalty for murdering a fellow agent.”

Angelique laughs. “Really, Mr. Kuryakin, for a supposed highly intelligent person, you can be quite dense.”

“Please explain, then.”

“I will explain, Mr. Kuryakin”, replies a new voice.

Instantly the humming stopped, Angelique and Sean, prostrate themselves, as the unseen crowd parts to reveal a figure bathed in a blood red light. The intensity forces Illya to close his eyes.

“You may look upon me, Illya Kuryakin.”

The voice is soft, yet commanding, compelling Illya to obey. Now that the light is down to a more tolerable level, the newcomer is more visible.

There was the old saying – ‘The Devil hath power to assume a pleasing shape’ is manifested in the figure that stands before him.

“Your Satanic Majesty”, he greets the entity, all the while trying to keep the fear from his voice.

“So! You know me.”

“Yes. I know you. May I ask what you want of me?”

“Your soul, of course.”

“Why?”

“My faithful servant, Angelique, tells me you have come between her and her obsession.”

“Obsession?”

“Your partner – Napoleon Solo.”

Illya laughs. “Really? She forgets, we are on opposite sides of the law. She’s not the only woman Napoleon uses to get information.”

Infuriated, Angelique lunges forward only to find her way blocked by Satan. “Keep your place, woman!”, he commands.

Angelique prostrates herself once more. “I beg forgiveness, my Lord.”

“What do you think will happen when I am gone?”, Illya asks the THRUSH agent.

“Oh. He will get a call that your body has been found. You were the unfortunate victim of the local Hellfire Club. All UNCLE will join him in mourning you and I will be at your funeral to comfort him.”

“If Napoleon finds out what you both have done it won’t be comfort you’ll get.”

“I can accept whatever happens. My reward is that he can’t turn to you.”

“My reward is there’ll be no Napoleon Solo to save you this time”, Brady crowed. “He’ll never get to tell you his true feelings.”

“What are you talking about?”, Illya demands.

Brady giggles. “He loves you, boyo; but is too much a coward to tell you. He is jealous of the fact we worked together for two years, and were friends, before you met him.   
Now, we knew how private you are. This, of course, would piss you off. It all worked perfectly. Now he’s pissed off and probably shacked up with some female. You might as well accept it. You’re on your own.”

Illya’s heart sinks. Now, when it’s too late, he understands what Napoleon feared. Now, like Caesar, he would pay the price for his mistrust. “Oh, Napoleon”, he whispers, “If you could only hear me…..”

“Right here, partner mine!”, comes a voice from directly above them. 

All look up and see what Illya had already seen, the figure of Napoleon Solo standing at the top of the renovated escalator.

“Napoleon, darling, welcome”, Angelique taunts. “We’ll give you the pleasure of watching.”

“How the hell…..!”, Brady stammers.

“I had help. Brent Connors”. Napoleon indicates the man standing beside him, “caught me just as I arrived at Illya’s apartment. He conducts an annual Halloween tour to these levels. He told me what happened to him and his last tour group. Also, he mentioned that he saw, and my partner, enter by a hidden passage. The last time I checked two plus two equals four. Now, you release him.”

“Silence!”, Satan roars. “My people do MY bidding, Napoleon Solo, and I reward then. I will grant Angelique’s request and there is nothing you can do to stop me.”

“Try me.” 

Illya, Brady and Angelique wench. That tone was known to bring the most skilled enemy agent to his, or her, knees.

The light around the Devil intensifies. “You dare challenge me!”

“For the soul of the man I love – yes.”

//Did Napoleon just say….? Think fast, Illya Nickovetch// “Dark Lord, may I speak?”

Satan turns to face the Russian. “Speak.”

“If I give you something you have never experienced you must set me free. Is that not so?”

“If it pleases me.”

“Release me and I will do so.”

“You are a clever man, Illya Kuryakin. What do I gain if I am not pleased?”

“I will go with you.”

There was a collective gasp. Satan raised a hand for silence. “Do you swear to this?”

“I swear.”

“Illya! No!”, Napoleon shouts.

“Be calm, Napoleon. It will be all right”, he assures the American. “Well, Dark Lord?”

The Devil waves his hand and the chains vanish.

Keeping his movements slow and seductive, Illya rises from the altar and approaches the other, stopping when they are inches apart. “There is a popular saying – ‘Let your fingers do the walking’. So…..”

Reaching out he caresses the handsome face. The reaction is immediate; a white light begins to replace the red.

Satisfied, he continues upward until he encounters the horns. His fingers begin to move up and down, caressing every curve, every point. The white light intensifies.

“Stop!”, The Fallen One commands.  
“  
Are you certain?”

Not waiting for a reply, Illya leans forward and places a sweet, tender kiss on the Devil’s lips.

Several moments pass, the light surrounding the two is now a blinding white, and Illya breaks the kiss. “Well, Ruler of Hades, what say you?”

“There have been extremely rare occurrences when anyone has beaten me. By my own word, I am forced to tell the truth. This is one of those times. Your soul is safe, Illya Kuryakin, for what I have just experienced, no one has ever given me freely and with such true passions. Napoleon Solo is a fortunate man.”

“Thank you.”

Satan nodded then turned his gaze on Sean and Angelique. “You know the penalty for failure.” A statement not a question. “Both of you will join me in Hell. You, Sean Brady, will be my eternal stoker – shoveling the bones of the damned to feed my locomotive; you, Angelique DuBois, a special window will be prepared for you through which you will be damned to watch the happiness those two enjoy together and unable to prevent it. That is my final judgment.”

“NO!!”, Angelique and Sean wail.

Satan ignores them. “Silence! The God of the Sun rises. Let us be gone.”

Once again the Devil gestures – the crowd disappears as light begins to fill the cavern. The darkness seems to follow the hell bound train as it enters the tunnel.

MFUMFUMFUMUHAPPYHALLOWEENMFUMFU

The Penthouse   
The Alexandra Park Plaza Hotel  
October 31st  
2:00am  
“Here, drink this.”

Illya takes the cup of steaming Earl Grey tea and takes a sip. “Thank you.”

Napoleon sits down next to his friend. I just gave Mr. Waverly our report. He gave us a week off.”

Silence.

Are you all right?”, he asks, concern on his face.

Illya turns to look at the American. “Napoleon, did you mean what you said?”

“About?”

“That I am the man you love?”

His answer comes in a delightful surprised when the strong arms embrace him. “Yes. I meant every word.” 

Illya attempted to pull away but found the embrace inescapable.

“Talk to me.”

““I don’t know what to say, Napoleon. All I can do is beg your forgiveness. I should have trusted you. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. Thank Brent Connors.”

Illya snuggles further into the comforting embrace. “Napoleon, will you answer a question for me?”

“Yes. I was jealous and sorry it took all of this to make give me the courage to tell you….”

Illya put a finger to Napoleon’s lips to interrupt. “Let’s wrap this up then retire to your place to discuss it. We do have a whole week.”

Napoleon grin is from ear-to-ear. “Works for me.” 

THE LOVING HALLOWEEN END?

10/30/17


End file.
